


The Ninth Child

by quicktart



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Sequel to the events of Undertale, True Pacifist after a Genocide ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:19:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicktart/pseuds/quicktart
Summary: Long ago, humans sealed monsters away with a magic spell... Legends said that no one who climbed their mountain ever returned. Many years later...One human does. And, it seemed, with all of monsterkind behind the child's small steps.Yet, not all monsters have left the Underground. When a ninth fallen child falls onto Flowey's carefully tended bed of flowers, Flowey must decide if he will help her escape when he himself can not. Or, if he will let the last friend he could ever have leave...Meanwhile, Ninth Child may have more to do than escape the Underground... A darkness lingers... something she has tried to escape haunts her, something stronger than any human or any monster threatens monsterkind and humanity.The Ninth Child may be humanity's only hope at redemption, and monster's only hope for true freedom from the past that haunts them all.--A sequel to the events of Undertale. Frisk has, just like Flowey, exhausted all that could be done in the Underground. Curiosity lead to the ultimate evil, even worse than anything Flowey had ever committed... But with regret, Frisk attempts to reset and free all monsters. Still, something dark follows, intent on destroying everything..





	1. True Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you read the summary. 
> 
> I will not give away information on the plot easily, and so you may be occasionally confused. If you are, good. I want you to be!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! :)

Long ago, two races ruled over the Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS.

One day, war broke out between the two races.

After a long battle, the humans were victorious. 

They sealed the monsters underground with a magic spell. 

 

Many years later…

 

Mt. Ebott.

201X.

 

Legends say that those who climb the mountain never return. 

One cold spring, a human child fell… 

…and returned.

 

Legends say that seven human souls could free the monsters from the underground. 

Legends say an ‘angel’ who has seen the surface would descend from above and bring freedom. 

Never would it be a human, but a Monster.

 

 

Many years later… Monsters took a bleaker outlook. 

The emblem and prophecies of hope were nothing more than an Angel of Death. A harbinger of destruction, waiting to “free” Monsters — from the mortal realm.

Where humans could, or would, no longer kill them. 

And yet… 

Someone is out there. Someone who will never give up trying to do the right thing, no matter what. 

There is no prophecy. There is no legend. 

It is just something we know to be true.


	2. To the Edge of the Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ninth child falls down into the Underground, leaving Flowey feeling conflicted. Wasn't this why he felt that he had to take care of these flowers?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not played Undertale and gotten every single ending, I have used an Easter egg to support this story. If you want the spoiler, check out the notes at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> If you have not played Undertale at all, I hope you can understand this anyway!

The air was suffocating with moisture and an earthy smell, but it was much cooler and darker here than it had been above. 

The same wounds that had at once left the child unconscious, now made her unable to rest at all. They jolted her awake, sending her into startled gasps as she tried to view her surroundings from her blurred vision.

Her fall had been cushioned by a bed of yellow flowers, which were now crushed and had speckles of blood. 

She pulled up her pant leg to see her knee, as if she had merely fallen off of her bike and scraped it against a pebbly road. She didn’t think she had landed on it. 

It was her side and her ribs that hurt. And her left arm. She was gasping for air, her arm taking most of it away somehow, her ribs making every breath more and more shallow.

She looked up, and saw a sheet of dimming light coming from far, far above. 

She wiped the tears from her face, but the tears kept falling, silently. Everything was dark, and much too silent. She wanted nothing more than to stay in that sheet of light, maybe for the rest of her life. 

But she was scared. She looked up at the sheet of light, and called, weakly, for help. 

At first, nothing happened. Not a sound, not even the sound of the wind from above. 

“Help,” she called again, louder this time. 

She was met with silence. 

She rolled carefully onto her side, hoping to get up with her right arm’s strength. She tested its strength, but fell back down with a yelp as her side screeched out in agony, flooding her vision with yellow spots.

She squeezed her eyes shut and whimpered. Tears streamed down her face, watering the flowers her body had crushed. 

Then, suddenly, she heard a voice. 

Her eyes shot open, though she cradled her own body still, unable to fight the pain in any other way. 

In the shadows, there was a flower — looking at her with a most casually interested expression, as if it were watching an ant try to climb out of a plastic cup.

She started at the sudden sight of a face staring at her, but knew better than to move.

“Howdy,” said the flower, without concern. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower.” 

He made no other move, except to dart his eyes across the flower bed. Surveying the damage, the human blood. The blood of plants, too.

The child put her head down, very carefully. She sniffled, and stared. 

“Now you,” Flowey prompted, with a slight twitch. 

The child took in a shaky breath, meaning to give a clear answer. “Ava.”

Flowey didn’t even blink. 

Until suddenly, his face twisted into an awful grin. “You’re just a plant now — just like me.”

Startled, she gasped loudly at his twisted features, and felt the tears flow once again, despite how hard she tried to hold them back.

He slowly let his grin fade, looking disheartened. “Ava…cado,” he murmured, less enthusiastically.

She continued to cry, though she cradled herself as if doing so were painful. It only made it worse. 

Flowey winced, then said, “Can you, er…” 

The child sniffled and groaned. 

“Okay. Okay. Hey? Can you walk?”

She continued to cry, and seemed to try to say something. It came out as gibberish mixed in with pitiful gasps.

He sighed dramatically, letting this leaves fall limply by his stem. “Stupid. Stupid flower,” he muttered, and then, more thoughtfully he said at the child, “I’ll be your friend. Your best friend. By that I mean I could get you out of here.” 

Ava seemed to have heard him. She became quieter, and looked at him expectantly. 

Flowey shifted on his stem, feeling oddly uncertain how to proceed. He had only felt that a few times in his life, in much more important situations. Refusing to fight humanity, trying to fight a soul of a friend who _refused_ to die. When he first became a flower.. and fixed every problem in the Underground that he could.

He couldn’t help the almost conditioned curiosity that bubbled up in him, that made him wonder what would happen if he did _this_ or _that_ , but he knew he couldn’t reset. Not anymore. Something much stronger than him was out there. 

He pushed that thought away. No, nothing mattered. Nothing mattered at all. Everything would end for him, and then for everyone else. And it made it especially weird that _this_ new fallen child made him feel anything. It was as if he should do… something, but what would that be? 

Lead the child out through the other side? Well, it was something to do. A completely worthless action, much less redeeming than the redemption he had felt… breaking the barrier. Saving everyone after he had been, worthlessly, saved. Knowing that a darkness might not be stifled. 

The guilt of his previous actions lingered, but still he seemed to feel nothing. 

It was harder now to find any meaning in anything that happened, now. He almost reminded himself of Sans, not even sure why he was continuing to exist. Yet existing all the same.

And a part of him seemed to hope that this was it, to save another child — which he had been punished for before, when that child had meant to destroy humanity. And he couldn’t do it. 

He had taken care of these flowers, in case something like this happened. Someone had to take care of them. 

But once the child was gone? Well. Back to… nothing. No one. Truly, the worst sort of boredom.

The child, Ava, was looking at him. Did she really matter? 

“Can you walk?” he asked again, his voice empty, trying not to sound inpatient or curious or hopeless. 

“I can’t get up,” she said — sobbed, really, falling back into sad sniffles.

“Well, uh. Me, neither!” he said cheerfully, throwing his leaves up as if to demonstrate his floweriness. “So… wait here,” he said, without cheer. 

Flowey suddenly seemed to get sucked into the ground, leaving an empty patch behind him. 

Ava sat up a little, trying to get a good look at where he had disappeared to. 

Just as suddenly as he had gone, he was back, popping out of the ground like a weird sprout. Ava jumped, then stared at his outstretched root. It was holding a…

“Cinnamon bunny,” Flowey stated. “It’ll heal you right up.” 

Ava took it, and Flowey dropped it quickly into her grip as if he was afraid to touch her. She inspected it and then took a little bite. It was cold, very cold, and hard, but it was sweet. Sweet enough to almost perfectly mask the taste of stale bread. As she ate it, the magic seemed to work against her wounds. The pain lessened, and she took a deeper breath, now that it was finally possible. 

Flowey frowned as he watched, waiting to see if he felt anything by the sight. Any satisfaction at doing good, any indication that he was supposed to be helping. 

The child reached out. “Another?” she asked.

Flowey looked at the hand with apprehension. “Try walking. I’ll show you where they are.”

Ava shifted and stood, looking much better. She wiped her face and her gross, leaky little nose. 

“Okay,” Flowey said uncertainly, looking around as if he were worried something might come suddenly out of the shadows. “This will be weird. Try to follow me.” 

Ava nodded, much more enthusiastically than Flowey felt. 

He was sucked back under the patch, and Ava was left with an empty patch once again. 

“Over here,” called Flowey’s voice.

Ava looked up, into the darkness of the Underground. A flower’s face was just visible, in a terrifyingly dark doorway. 

“Come on,” he called again. “This way.” 

Ava gulped. She carefully walked forward, and tested her left arm to see if bending it hurt. It seemed to be _mostly_ good enough.

Flowey’s eyes followed her as she approached, his expression unchanging. Almost as if he was leading a wild ground bird through a cave.

He fell back into the ground again, then popped up again farther away, by another dark doorway. 

This time Ava obediently followed him to the doorway before he said a thing. Actually, she looked like a cat going after a pop-a-mole.

“Okay, not bad,” said Flowey, looking slightly more interested, the slightest bit amused by the game.

Ava bowed happily — carefully, afraid of feeling pain in her ribs despite the healing. 

“Okay… — keep up,” Flowey stated, and disappeared again. He popped up again on top of a set of ancient stairs. “We need to get through the Ruins.”

He watched Ava come up the stairs, then popped up again past the entrance. Ava came walking through into the little room, her eyes locating Flowey right away. 

Flowey gestured to the puzzle. “I think the puzzle was never reset,” he admitted. “No one has needed puzzles, for…” he thought about it, then shrugged.

Ava looked at it carefully. 

“Try the door,” said Flowey. “It’s still unlocked. If not,” he added quickly, as Ava approached it, “it won’t take long to unlock it—“

The door was unlocked. Ava walked straight through. 

Flowey quickly popped up again on the other side, and watched as the child confidently walked ahead. 

“Wait!” Flowey called. 

He popped up again in front of Ava, making her come up to him. 

“All the puzzles _are_ done,” he told her, “but there are still some that couldn’t be. Weak flooring. You could fall through.” 

Ava looked at the floor nervously. 

“Not here,” Flowey said impatiently. “I can… I can meet you there,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Ava looked uncertain. 

“Yeah…” murmured Flowey. “I’ll just keep sprouting up everywhere, just follow me.”

She did. From one room to another, stumbling a bit in the dim corridors. 

“Okay, _here_ ,” Flowey said helpfully. 

Ava was standing on a tiny bridge over water, and before her were spikes.

“Just go ahead,” said Flowey. “The spikes go down if you go the right way.”

She carefully put her foot forward, and yelped when several sets of spikes suddenly shot down.

As she jumped back, the spikes came right back up, fatally quick. 

“Hey! Watch it!” Flowey spat, leaning back. “You almost stepped on me!”

“Sorry,” Ava yelped, stumbling forward. 

Flowey grumbled, then stood as straight as a flower could. “You’re short. You can’t get hurt by them. Just go across, I’ll wait for you.” 

With that, he folded his leaves and was slurped back into the earth. 

Ava carefully stepped through, one step and then two. It was shockingly easy to get across. 

True to his word, Flowey was waiting on the other side. 

Ava gave him a thumbs up, but Flowey didn’t acknowledge it. “This way,” he stated, disappearing again. 

Ava followed him into the next room, all the way down a long corridor. And then the next room. 

“So, uh... Are you feeling determined?” Flowey asked curiously, as they approached what was very obviously a crumbling floor. 

Ava frowned. “I want to go home.” 

“Yeah, but are you _determined_ to?” Flowey pestered.

Ava looked at the floor uncertainly. “How do I get across this?” 

“The sight of the Ruins didn’t make you feel anything? The little piles of leaves? Getting past that puzzle?”

“I was _relieved_ , I guess.”

Flowey stared. “Okay. Never mind.” He gestured to the crumbling ground. “You’ll fall if you try to cross that.”

“I _know_ ,” Ava said helplessly.

“Yeah. It’s fine. Just jump down, it’s a soft landing. Then you can climb out through the chute,” he said, pointing at the tiny window on the other side of the crumbling floor.

Ava did not look convinced. “Can you hold my hand?” she asked. 

Flowey put his leaves up in the air. “You would rip these off.”

“No, your.. root?” 

“My root.” It didn’t sound like a question.

“You handed me a Cinnamon Bunny.”

“Oh,” Flowey said uncomfortably. “You would probably hurt me really bad.” 

Ava bit her lip, looking at the floor as if it had spiders and snakes crawling underneath. She didn’t want to fall down twice, especially not if it was going to hurt.

“You’ll be fine,” Flowey reassured her without much emotion. “I’ve seen lots of humans do it. Eight of them.”

“Eight of them?” Ava asked. 

“Well, no…” he admitted. “But just do it. I’m going to the other side.” 

As he started to fold his leaves against his stem, Ava yelled, “Wait!”

“Why?” Flowey snapped.

“What if I can’t get up again?”

“You’ll be _fine_.” 

She hesitated.

Flowey waited for a moment, just as Ava suddenly convinced herself to try to walk across the edge of the room, clinging onto the wall for dear life. 

Something about that made Flowey want to laugh, until the floor gave way anyway and Ava went tumbling down.

Awkwardly, Flowey moved himself to the other side of the room, listening to a slight groan. And the sound of climbing. A moment later, Ava came out the little chute.

“Told you,” Flowey muttered, too quietly for anyone else to hear.

He moved himself into the next room, and Ava followed. 

At the sight of more crumbling floor, Ava walked even slower. Her eyes darted around, scanning the walls for anything to hold onto, anything more trustworthy than this floor. Her eyes started to sting as they were greeted with an old but smooth wall.

“This one is easy,” said Flowey, pushing down some of the flooring with a leaf. “See? Follow the path, I’ll show you. No falling this time.”

“Okay,” said her shaking voice. 

He showed her. “This way… This way… over here… It’s really easy, you just have to know the path. Aaaand here we are,” he said, feeling somewhat accomplished, though annoyed at how new she was to everything. He knew it way too well. 

So did another human. Two humans. 

They moved ahead, Flowey popping up and Ava chasing him down the paths. 

He noticed, vaguely, that Ava stopped to look at the moldy, worthless cheese, and the crumbs from whatever pitiful creature had munched on it. But she didn’t look anything more than curious.

She looked around at every room, with its solved puzzles and general emptiness. It felt creepy and not right in the slightest. Though she knew it was oddly how it was meant to be. 

As she approached him at a crossroads, Flowey gestured down the path coming off of their own. “We need to go that way. No need to go the other way. You’ll just see an empty city.”

Ava twisted her face up in thought. “Why didn’t you leave the Underground?”

Flowey scoffed. “This way,” he instructed, disappearing up the north path. 

Ava followed him to the front of a quaint little house, decaying and covered in a lightless moss or fungus. 

“In we go,” Flowey said forcefully. He disappeared under the ground again. 

Ava carefully entered the little house, and found herself in a small entryway. Flowey was poking out carefully through the floorboards. 

“Okay,” he said authoritatively. “Now go down those stairs. I’ll meet you at the end of the hall.”

Before she could object, he disappeared between the floorboards. 

Ava looked down the hall, leaning forward for the best view. It was dark, but she could make out a couple of doors. On the other side, she could see a table, she thought, though it was blanketed in darkness. Despite the faint musty smell, she felt that once, long ago, this place must have been a comfortable place to be. She was tempted to explore the rest of the house, tempted to see if anyone else was still here. 

But following a need to be good, she went straight down the stairs, feeling somewhat regretful. Though, she felt she couldn’t leave the flower waiting. The stairs creaked even under her small feet, whether from disuse or overuse she couldn't tell. Her steps stirred up dust, sort of how she stirred up mud at the bottom of puddles with a stick.

She walked down a long, silent hallway, until she came to a door that was slightly open. 

She walked through, down yet another long hallway. She couldn't see how far it stretched into the dark, and she was getting very tired of long hallways. The darkness seemed to reach out threateningly, trying to prevent her from proceeding.

Finally, she came to another entryway swallowed in darkness. Another sheet of light, definitely dimming (was the sun way above setting?), flitted down, touching the delicate looking petals on Flowey’s face. 

Behind him was a door that was badly burned. 

“This is the end of the Ruins,” he said simply. 

Ava shifted uncomfortably. 

“So I can leave the Underground now?”

“Er… no. The Ruins lead to Snowdin, eventually. You need to get to Snowdin, then to Waterfall, then to—“

“How big is this place?” Ava wailed. 

“Big enough,” Flowey snapped. “It’s this way or back to the Ruins. Come on,” he stated, falling back into the ground. 

He popped up again outside, pushing himself up over soil, then forcing himself through ice, and then the massive weight of snow. Ava was already out by the time Flowey managed to get above the massive hoards of snow, her eyes locating him before he unfurled himself. 

He glanced down the path as if it were his messy bedroom when he wasn't expecting guests. He wilted slightly as he tried to locate which spots would have the least resistance to being pushed up. “There used to be a path here,” he admitted.

Ava stared at him. 

“It’s covered up now.”

“Yeah.” 

“I didn’t think this far ahead,” Flowey murmured, frowning. 

He turned back to Ava, who was looking down the path the way one might look at a dragon suddenly standing in their path.

“The snow at least makes it look brighter in here,” he offered.

Ava nodded. That much was true. 

“I can’t get through this as easily as you can. Listen: Just walk straight through. You’ll fit through the fence. Then just keep going until you get to Snowdin. Those stupid puzzles are already solved and no one is going to set them back up. Someone solved everything for you. So… just walk through it. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Ava answered.

“Then when you get to Snowdin — the town — you’ll see the Inn. There is food there. Monster food. It will heal you. Then just go straight through town, to Waterfall. It’s Waterfall because it’s dark and… water filled,” he finished lamely. 

“Straight through town,” Ava repeated. 

Flowey started to fold his leaves up next to his stem. “I’ll meet you in Waterfall.” Then he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER:  
> At the end of the true pacifist run, you can walk all the way back to the very beginning of the Ruins. When you do, you can see Asriel in his Asriel form, standing over flowers just as Toriel can be seen doing before you leave the Ruins (after defeating and not killing her). If you talk to him, he will admit several things, one of them being that he feels that someone must attend to the flowers that broke Frisk's fall. Though, he doesn't explain this and it is up to the player's interpretation.  
> SPOILER  
> \--
> 
> No spoiler down here!
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Now, do me a favor? and leave me a harsh review (constructive, please). I am using this story as practice to improve my writing skills. That can't happen without feedback! Am I doing this right, in your opinion?
> 
> Thanks again! I'll update soon.


	3. Snow in Snowdin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava travels through Snowdin, looking for the way to Waterfall. The Underground, so far, is not as empty as she had thought at all.

Just as Flowey had said, no puzzles hindered her path. What did was snow, mountains and heaps and layer upon layer of cold, slushy snow. 

Much more than measly snow poffs. 

No one had stomped it down, in a very long time. No one had shoveled, no one had cleared, and no one had walked here. 

Now the snow was piled up, hiding holes and sheets of ice, a wild mess of fluffy frozen water that made it hard pick up her feet and take the next step. Only a few steps later, her muscles were protesting.

Ava followed what she hoped was an old path, long abandoned. Her feet crunched through the snow, but she never truly felt the ground under her shoes. Snow squished itself into her socks, melted on her legs under her pants, and left her shivering unhappily. 

Determined? What about this could make anyone feel determined? 

She knew she had to get through this, to meet Flowey on the other side. That was about how determined as she could get about this. 

She felt herself fighting the urge to cry again. She was frustrated, mostly at herself. 

This was her fault, and she should have never come up here — or anywhere. 

Suddenly she saw a little wooden peak poking out of the snow, right by the ledge above her. Carefully, she dug back enough snow to realize she had discovered a dog house. 

Did monsters have dogs? She knew they were Human’s best friends. She knew also that there were doglike monsters. She didn’t know the difference that well.

She had heard something about dogs coming out from the Underground. 

She had come to a crossroad. Thoughtfully, she extended her hands, hoping they would tell her by the breeze which way she should be going. Then she spotted the lightest indentations on the snow… paw prints? 

She decided, uncertainly, to try following the prints. She thought she could see a figure standing there.

She crunched through, already exhausted from the effort, when she came upon him. 

The Snowman was smiling warmly, though he was half submerged in snow. Behind him was just dead end.

She sighed, thinking about the difficult steps to get back to the crossroad.

“I haven’t seen anyone for a long time,” the Snowman suddenly observed.

Ava started, but quickly recovered. “I thought all the Monsters left the Underground.” 

“They did,” said the Snowman. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I can’t move,” said the Snowman. 

“Oh,” said Ava, feeling sorry for him. 

“A piece of me made it to the surface,” he said, looking up at the cavern ceiling. “It went all the way through the Underground, and then it went to the surface.” 

Ava wasn’t sure how to respond. 

The Snowman looked back at her. “I didn’t think I would see anyone ever again.”

“Oh… well, ta-da.”

The Snowman’s smile seemed to grow a little. “I keep having this feeling of doom. Not that I will stay here forever, but that I might be subject to the collapse of the Underground.”

Ava looked around. She thought it looked sturdy. 

“I don’t feel as hopeless, since a piece of me is out there. But I am full of wanderlust… Where do you come from?”

Ava seemed to answer carefully, “Outside of town. We came for a visit.” 

The Snowman only asked, “What is it like there?”

Ava thought about it. “Fine. The Monsters are happy, now, if that’s what you mean…” She felt suddenly that saying this wasn’t right, at least not entirely true. She knew something had happened. Something dark, something worse than expected. Something irreparably bad. 

The Snowman waited for the answer to continue. 

Ava cleared her throat. “The Monsters get along with us okay,” she expanded. “Just.. one day they went away. They didn’t seal off Humans. They… know better?” she said awkwardly, hoping the Snowman wouldn’t think she was being offensive. 

“Went away?” asked the Snowman.

“They sealed themselves off. They were mystical and ancient and everyone wanted to know about their magic. We didn’t know that magic was real. I mean, we thought that the legends were stories. We didn’t know there were Monsters, and now all the fairy tales just seem messed up,” she added.

The Snowman stared.

Ava continued nervously, “They hid themselves. But humans didn’t do it this time.”

“Did the humans not attack?” asked the Snowman.

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Her toes were going numb, but they hurt. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It felt… different than that. It wasn’t just Monsters who were scared.” 

The Snowman didn’t respond. 

Ava looked around, studying the details of the trees a little too closely.

“Can you do one thing for me, human?” asked the Snowman.

“What?”

“Shovel this snow away? One day I will see nothing but darkness. I can feel it. Can you put it off for me?”

“Yes!” she said enthusiastically. She hated this darkness, and couldn’t imagine letting it get any darker, any more like nothingness.

Nonexistence scared her more than anything else.

Her fake leather fingerless gloves were still in her pocket. She slipped them onto her hands and shoveled the snow way with them, carefully discerning what was Snowman and what wasn’t. 

“Thank you… Thank you…” the Snowman kept saying as she dug.

She stopped after several minutes, when she felt he was out just enough. 

“Can you do one more thing for me?” he asked hopefully.

Ava nodded. 

“If you see a small skeleton named Sans… can you tell him a Snowman really misses him?”

Ava nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. 

“And his brother, too,” added the Snowman. Then, “It was nice to meet you, human.” 

“You, too.” She waved at him, then turned around. 

She saw the light paw prints leading back down to the crossroads. 

With no other path, she followed them. Clearly, the Underground was not as empty as everyone had said. 

They led her through the snow, over ice, and along the path.

She walked on, carefully sliding on ice through a small wooded patch. 

She swore she felt something hop onto her head. As she slid through, she tried to grab it to pull it off, only for it to hop off. 

She looked behind her, looking wildly for the culprit. However, she could see nothing. It was dark, and she couldn’t stand still on the ice.

Then she moved forward again. By the ledge was another doghouse. 

She looked down the path, or what she thought must be the path, and saw a rotting, swinging bridge. 

The paw prints seemed to go to the doghouse. She approached it cautiously. “Hello?”

There was no answer, but the doghouse had clearly been dug up recently. Dirty snow lay around it, having been dug up around the entrance of the little house.

“Hello?” Her shoes crunched the fluffed up snow. She leaned down and looked into the dog house, cautiously, afraid of seeing a wild animal.

But the house was empty. 

Confused, she looked at the snow again. The dog prints were going to the house, not away from it. But the house was without a doubt unoccupied. 

Looking around carefully, she decided to move on to the ancient-looking bridge. She looked down, and only darkness could be seen. This was not a place where she wanted to fall.

Holding tightly onto the rope railing, she stepped forward, placing her feet directly into the middle of the first board. The wood felt soft and worn, and somewhat rotted. 

She carefully walked down the length of it, gaining more confidence the farther she went. Then she leaped from one to the other as she saw the end of it, and came out the other side feeling relieved once again. 

There was a half-covered banner, which read, “Welcome to.”

She guessed it might say “Snowdin” under all that snow. 

It was eerily silent. It made her ears hurt, and she felt uncomfortable hearing her own breathing. 

Then she saw the Inn. Taking Flowey’s word, she carefully stepped inside. But there was nothing inside, and even some of the flooring was gone. She decided to walk up the stairs inside, but to no avail. It seemed that she was somehow at the wrong Inn, though Flowey had seemed so matter-of-fact about finding Cinnamon Bunnies here. 

Frustrated, she walked down a hallway into the neighboring shop. 

That’s when she saw them, sitting on the emptied counter. There was no furniture and no one had dusted for a very long time, but there was a dusty platter with a “free!” sign attached. On it were a few Cinnamon Bunnies, crumbling and some of them with nibbles from mice taken out of the side. 

She hesitated, then grabbed all of them. 

She stumbled out the front door as she stuffed them into her jacket and pant pockets, not caring much about the mess they were making. 

She looked curiously at the little chest outside of the Inn. 

Hoping to find anything else of use, she opened it up and peered inside. Though, whatever had been stored there had clearly been consumed long ago. She guessed, by the dog that must be roaming around here — all that could be seen was a residue of fur, oil, and the lingering smell of a dog.

She felt annoyed. 

Then she moved on. She felt she was going through town, as she passed what she guessed was either a restaurant or another shop once, called Grillby’s. It looked like no one had cared for keeping it up for a long time. It looked just about ready to fall over under the weight of snow. 

Then, she came to another crossroad. In the Ruins, she had grown tied of long hallways and long walks, and here — well, the walk was long and tiring, but there were too many crossroads. Two were too many.

Now the question was, which way had Flowey meant? 

She tried to figure out which way was “straight through town,” which way would lead directly to Waterfall. She felt a growing frustration at Flowey for leaving her here to figure this out on her own. She was tired, and it was so quiet here. 

She looked forward, past the library. There didn’t look to be anything there… a house, in the distance, it looked like. Then, nothing. Did that signal that this was through town, on the way to Waterfall, where Flowey was supposedly waiting? 

She shifted around, and decided to trust her gut. She looked north, and saw that there were more buildings in the dark. So — that must be the way through town. 

She walked carefully over heaps of snow, finding more houses and what looked weirdly like an abandoned mill. She kept going, until she saw, in the distance, another ledge. She could hear water trickling past gently.

She felt herself get more frustrated for a moment, feeling she had gone the wrong way, but then the darkness on the water _moved_. 

A face robed in the darkness itself had turned towards her, and a moment she recognized that the dark figure had been standing on top of a rocking boat. 

“ _There_ you are…” said a smooth, playful voice. 

She noticed right then that the boat’s stern was shaped like that of a dog’s. It was grinning, and she felt like it was looking directly at her. 

“Care for a ride in my boat?” asked the River Person. 

Ava looked behind her. “I need to get to Waterfall. Can you give me directions?” 

“I can take you there,” he answered the very second the last syllable had escaped her mouth. She felt like he had known already where she was heading. 

She looked at the boat’s dogface. It was urging her on — this had to be the right way. It _had_ been “straight through town.”

“Did Flowey tell you I was coming?” she asked, and carefully climbed onto the boat. She aggressively ignored the River Person’s slowly-following gaze, ignored the discomfort of being watched despite his silence.

Then she looked up at his face, or tried to. All she could see was shadow. His robes left no part of him visible, not even his hands. Yet, she could feel a gaze on her that was otherworldly. “When was your last visitor?” she asked him, honestly curious. 

His head turned away, slowly, as the boat started to rise out of the water. She held onto the sides tightly, surprised when the boat began to hop across the water. 

“Tra la la…” the River Person sang. “Humans, monsters… Flowers.” 

Not soon enough, the boat began to slow down as it neared an entrance in the now-darker caverns. 

The boat halted by a flat piece of land in a small room, and Ava quickly stepped off, looking at the dog face with new respect. “Does your boat dig around in Snowdin?” she blurted out.

The River Person’s face was on her, but he didn’t seem to react much. “Tra la la…” 

“I better find my friend now,” Ava said awkwardly, gesturing out the small room. 

The River Person answered, “Temmie Village… the room before the darkening lantern room…”

“Oh… Thank you,” she said sincerely. 

She turned around and began to leave, ignoring the feeling of being watched. 

“Tra la la…” she heard him sing, “Beware the man who came from the other world.”

With a shiver running up her spine, she continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your support so far! Feel free to leave your criticism!


End file.
